Strife/Issue 09
Issue 09 is the third issue of Volume 02 of Strife, It was written by CamTheWoot and was published on August 3rd, 2014. ---- Issue 09 Previous: Issue 08 Next: Issue 10 ---- Patrick ---- "Oh stop whinging," Patrick sighed. Once again he was at his daily duties, a nice bottle of Oeur De Cognac brandy, sat on his desk, waiting for him. Larson sitting on the operating table, aching it pain, clearly trying his best not to cry. He was shirtless, covered in bandages and plasters. "God dammit dude, my ribs are broken, my arm too!" Larson grunted. "I'll whinge if I damn well want." "Rib," Patrick corrected, tying up Larson's bandages at his shoulder. "You've only broken one, plus it's not nearly high enough to puncher a lung. If anything, you should appreciate the week off this'll get you." "Look, just - next time you want to sneak into some place, don't involve me. Especially if your master plan involves Mitch." Patrick chuckled before finally tugging Larson's shoulder back along with the bandage. "Well we're even now, you can rest easy knowing that." "Last fucking time I try to steal from you, eh?" "I hope so, if it means anything you're forgiven." "Somewhat," Larson chuckled, he looked up at the door as a knocking came from the other side. "Dude, you hear that?" Patrick heard it too, he walked over to the door, and peered through a small spy-hole, what he saw was a pair of large brown eyes staring back at him. "It's your sister," Patrick said, looking back at Larson. "Oh, shit," he sighed. "She's gonna kick my arse." "She can't be worse than Mitch, I assure you." With that Patrick opened a door, like a blur Nara ran in, before Patrick could even speak she was beside Larson, inspecting every cut and bruise visible. "Dude, some help here?" Larson screeched, over his sisters constant questions. Ranging from 'How are you?' to 'How could you be so stupid?' With an eyebrow raised, Patrick quietly shut the door, only tittering as he sat at his desk, ignoring Larson's cries for help. He took it upon himself to poor himself a glass of that brandy he'd been waiting for. He could only watch Larson attempt to answer his overbearing sisters questions in the couple of seconds she gave before another was sent his way. Nara barely allowed Patrick to take a sip before she turned her attention to him. "What the hell happened to him?" She asked. "He had a run in with Mitch," Patrick shrugged. "Nothing to worry about, a few broken bones and a black eye. A week off at worst." "A week in the slammer," Larson mumbled. "THE SLAMMER?!" Nara screamed, finally turning her attention back to Larson. "What did you do?! Surely it would be Mitch being locked up, not you!" Patrick could see Larson staring at him, he had a sincere look of guilt in his eyes, as Patrick silently nodded. "I actually threw the first punch," he murmured. "I was trying to break into the supply tower." Nara paused, she was putting no effort into masking her own sadness, she sat on the bed next to him. "Larson, you can't do this, you really can't." Patrick crossed his legs, watching them, taking another sip from his glass. A stream of guilt fell through him, his plan had worked but Larson was taking the blame for him. That's what he gets for stealing, he told himself remembering back to when he caught the lad leaving his office, hands full of medication. Larson was in a darker phase of his life then, he and Nara's uncle had recently passed and he swallowed any tablet that would let him sleep. As Patrick watched the two of them argue he considered whether he should have reported Larson to Rowena them and there, rather than let him off and call in the favor later. "This seems like a conversation you two should have in private," he said to them, standing up with his glass still in hand. He got a nod from Nara in return, as she swept her sort, jet black hair with her hand. "I'll be outside if you need me, just give me a shout when your ready." The siblings thanked him and he slowly walked to the door, opened it and closed it behind him. It was a hot day, too hot for Patrick Myers to cope with. Resting his glass on the floor he took off his cardigan and slung it over his shoulder as he leaned against the wall. The Tower of London was bustling this time of day, the community had few children with them, but there they were, playing in the courtyard. He could see Mitch's young granddaughter out there, Karen her name was; although Patrick was having difficulty recalled her name. Wide eyed with a head a long braided blonde hair. Next to her, participating in a game of tag was Jess's son Lucas, a tall lad for eight, notably missing part of his right ear. A looked away from them and stared into his glass, trying his best to ignore the screams from his office. "Patrick," a voice called out to him. A looked around for a second seeing no-one, then like a flash of lightning Jess was next to him. "Hard at work I see," she said eyeing the half empty glass in his hand. "I didn't want to get caught in the fallout," he smiled, nodding back at the door. A curse from Larson sounded through as Patrick rolled his eyes. "Mitch was rather vicious with him," she sighed. "How is he?" "Couple of broken bones," he shrugged, taking another sip. The brandy somehow tasted allot more bitter now, he leant down and put it back on the floor. "I imagine Rowena will have him locked up for a week or two. Mitch might be re-assigned." "Rowena will want to speak to you. I told her you had just tried to get in." She said, "didn't seem like coincidence to me." "What are you implying?" "Nothing, it just seems off to me, Larson trying to break in, just after you." "It's coincidence I assure you," Patrick grinned. "Why would I attempt to 'break in' as you say?" "Then why did you want to get in?" She asked. "I needed a resupply on bandages, one of which I was granted when Larson was sent in. I decided to try my luck getting in, rather than waiting outside Rowena's office for an hour, hoping to get a permit." He picked up his glass and downed the rest, watching Jess's distorted image through the crystal base. "Can you blame me?" "No," she sighed. "No I suppose not." ---- Nancy ---- She took her time reporting to Rowena, as she always did. As Nancy Brodmir approached the tower with those she had arrived with, she waited for Vincent, she could only assume he stayed to argue with Barnes. Soon enough, the decrepit shell of a man that was Vincent Myers emerged, walking by him lonesome. She's been watching Patrick and Jess talking from the distance from some time now, but as soon as Vincent appeared Jess collected the playing children and left and dear Patrick fled back into his office. That was the funny thing about Vincent, people ran from him, whenever he reared his broken, skeletal face, people disappeared. "You alright dear?" He said as he approached her. One hand in his pocket, the other adjusting his broken spectacles. Nancy looked him over, he was covered in blood and he wasn't trying to hide it. "Rowena's going to question that," she said, pointing to his gored shirt. "Your glasses too." "If she does, I was attacked by shadow type seven, understand?" Type seven? She thought to herself, searching her memory for the description that aligned to. Elderly woman, little hair, same height as me. She nodded in response, "got it." "Good," he grinned, putting his hand on her shoulder. "It seems our mutual friend has declared war." She recoiled backwards, forcing Vincent away from her. "Barnes?!" She rasped, shaking her head. "What do you mean... 'declared war'?" "Our dear friend seems to think I killed Lawrence," Vincent laughed. "He's ever so upset." Nancy pulled Vincent by the arm, out of sight for anyone who may be watching, into a small alleyway to the side of the courtyard. "What did he say?" She said in a more serious than she or Vincent was accustomed to. "Did he mentioned me?" "Of course not," he shrugged, brushing her hand off his jacket. "He sees you as an innocent little girl, just like everyone else." "Can you be sure?" "Oh please, he's far more interested in what goes on under your clothes than in your head. If you wanted you could have that silly little man wrapped around your finger." Nancy sighed and lent against the wall, breaking any form of eye contact she had with Vincent. Not like he was one for eye contact anyway, especially with his lazy eye. "Does he have anything on you?" She said. "About Lawrence, does he actually have any evidence?" "Of course not, the senile old twat is just running his mouth." Vincent poked his head out of the alley, shielding his eyes from the light. "As per the usual." "So we have nothing to worry about?" "Of course not," he stepped out of the alley with Nancy following close behind. "Rowena is our biggest problem, she's not going to like that we came home empty handed." "What she going to do?" Nancy grinned. "Put you in prison?" "Rowena could have me dead if she wanted to, I don't need to give her a reason." Nancy didn't answer that, she only sighed as the two continued to walk. She enjoyed walking with Vincent, she always did. That man had a strange aura around him, like a grey cloud sat over his head wherever he went. There was something about it that she couldn't help but love, how everyone fled whenever he emerged. Three quarters of the community didn't or even know his name, nor that Rowena had a third brother, they only knew him as the prisoner, that strange pale man that broke everything he touched. The dead man walking, that Nancy was forced to look after, that Rook was forced to guard. "Do you think we might have deal with Barnes?" Nancy asked, gravely. "I suppose it's possible," Vincent replied. His wandering left eye had a strange habit of fixating itself on a person, even when he wasn't looking at them. Now was no exception, it glared at Nancy as the two of them walked side by side to Rowena's tower. "It depends really, Fooks has allot of strings he can pull. If he starts to become a nuisance we can dispose of him." "I'm growing to like the man, if it came to it, I'd rather leave him alone." "You have a soft heart Nancy, if Barnes needs to go, then he needs to go. Trust me, he's have no quarrels with ending my life." "And Rowena?" Nancy replied. Vincent looked at her, seemingly disgusted, he blew his long hair away from his face. "People can listen in on us you know. If we must discuss this we can do it in private." As they approached that familiar iron door to The White Tower, or Rowena's Tower as they dubbed it, the door swung open. A tall man emerged from the dark quarters inside, towering over Vincent and Nancy, although most people towered over Nancy Brodmir. This man stood out from everyone else, Nancy was used to unclean people wandering around, wearing filthy clothes, constantly scratching the dandruff from their hair, but this tall, beady eyed man was not like that. he was well dressed and groomed, wearing a light brown blazer, an ironed, milky white shirt and even a black tie over the top. "Oh, good morning Nancy," he said in a deep, arrogant tone. "Good morning Colin," Nancy grinned a smile of white teeth along with a courtesy. Colin begun examining Vincent head to foot, seemingly recoiling from the bloodstained man that stood before him. "Vincent... what a nice surprise." "'Ello Colin," Vincent sneered. "Back from seeing Rowena again I see?" "Yes I've just finished speaking to her," Colin Cassady replied. Slicking his combed brown hair back. "I assume you are here to visit Rowena? Perhaps a change of clothes would be ideal before you decide to grace our leader with your presence." "Careful Colin," said Vincent. "We don't all need to dress fancy to compensate for our... other shortcomings." Vincent let out a grin as he heard Nancy quietly giggle behind him. "Besides, we don't all need to suck up to Rowena to do well around here." Colin huffed at the remark and straitened his tie. "Yes, perhaps if you were a little nicer to your sister, she wouldn't have you confined to a cell." "Perhaps if you were a little nicer to your parents they may have loved you growing up," Vincent leant back chuckling to himself. "Then again maybe not." "Now see here," Colin croaked, he stepped forward until he was only a few inches away from Vincent, likely getting closer if Nancy didn't see fit to slide in-between them. "Come now Colin," she said softly, stroking her hand down the side of his face. "No need to waste your strength on a man like him." Colin noticeably shook, with those black beady eyes of his darting around all over the place. "You've got allot of work to do, haven't you?" "Yes, yes! Quite a bit." He said stumbling backwards. Wiping the sweat from his head, he tried his best to stand proud and tall. "I... I really must depart." "Bye Colin," Vincent waved from behind Nancy, with a grin larger than life itself. Nancy was left feeling awkward above all as she watched that man she could only describe as violated stiffly stumble away. "Watching you do that will never stop being entertaining." "If you didn't start a fight with every person we come across, I wouldn't need to." Nancy replied with scorn. "No use lying to me," Vincent said opening the door for her. "I know you enjoy it, there's a glisten in your eyes every time you fumble around in someones head. It's why you went into psychiatrics in the first place." "My career was based around you," she said walking in, never breaking eye contact. "I... I'm sorry," Vincent muttered with sadness. "I wasn't aware of that." "Well now you are," Nancy replied under her breath, as she begun to ascend the stairs. Vincent sighed and slowly followed her. The two remained almost silent the whole way up the stairs, Vincent wheezing every few minutes, making it clear he was still aching from a kick in the ribs Lawrence gave him. At the stop of those spiraling stone steps Nancy spied Mitch leaning in the corner, despite her dislike for the old soldier he gave him a sweet grin in passing, he rolled his soulless black eyes in return. She knocked on the door and patiently waited for a gasping Vincent to catch up. "I've been here for an hour," Mitch sighed. "Pardon?" Nancy replied looking around to him. "I'm been sitting here like a fucking lemon for the past hour, waiting for Rowena to stop jerking off every Tom, Dick and harry that walks into her office and see me." Twitching he scratched his bald head and wiped his dirties military boots against the wall. "Not like she bloody called me up here or anything like that, eh?" "I'm sorry," Nancy replied, wringing her hands. "I didn't know, we can wait." "We?" Mitch questioned, as Vincent finally reared his crooked nose around the corner, with that broken grin she was so used to seeing. "Oh, it's you." Nancy took the opportunity to swiftly knock on the wooden door again. "Howdy Mitch," Vincent hissed, getting the time to get some air. "Nancy don't knock on the freaking door," he said pushing past her. "Not like Rowena would waste her breath by allowing you in." With that, he opened the door, uninvited he wandered into Rowena's office and Nancy followed. She watched Mitch give her a look, like he was plotting her murder as she closed the door on him. "Vincent I wish you would knock," Rowena mumbled not lifting her head from her writing. The pile of papers on her desk seemed to have tripled in size between the days, folders full of schedules and forms she had implemented. Statements and logbooks were scattered across the shelves behind her, Nancy could hardly believe her eyes. "I assure you, Nancy did... multiple times." He replied, grabbing a couple of chairs from the side and placing them in front of her desk. Nancy noticed how he left the nicer of the two broken chairs for her, you could say what you liked about Vincent Myers, but he was at least a gentleman. "May as well sit down dear." "Yes, I concur." Rowena said, drawing a new sheet of lined paper from under her desk. "I'll require a statement from the both of you... this may take awhile." Nancy sat down awkwardly and silently, completely straight faced. Although she would never admit it, Rowena Myers scared her, more than anyone else at the tower ever could. "So..." Rowena said, finally putting her pen down and looking Vincent in the eyes. "Please tell me Lawrence is with you." Vincent only shook his head slowly in reply. Nancy had grown up around the Myers family and in her twenty four years of life, she had never seen Rowena show any emotion, except for now. She buried her head into one hand, leaving the other dangling at the side, every now and then she would twitch, it almost looked like she was crying although she surely wasn't. "Rowena," Vincent said softly, he tried to put his hand on her shoulder but she swatted it away. "I don't know why, but I expected him to be with you." She said, with her emotions still hidden from view, "Lawrence always comes back." "Rowena, I don't know what to say." "Don't say anything, please." Rowena interrupted. Nancy wasn't really sure why she'd been called in at this point, she felt nothing but awkwardness around what she thought should be a family moment. "Just, would you mind going? I'll take your report later, I want to be alone." "Sadly no, there is still the matter of this job you promised me." "We'll discuss your dammed job later," Rowena snapped. "Don't make my request turn into an order." "Come on Vincent," Nancy said quietly, tugging at his bloodied sleeve "Oh alright, alright," Vincent got out of his chair, just as Rowena removed her hand from her face. Both Vincent and Nancy were rather shocked to see her eyes watered and tears running down her cheek, it wasn't much but it was more emotion than either of them had ever seen from her. Nancy remember the death of their father, Arthur Myers. Rowena didn't say a word, nor did Lawrence, Patrick sobbed like a baby and Vincent laughed for what seemed like hours. She never saw Rowena's reaction to her husband, Harry's death, but she heard that Rowena didn't leave her office for weeks following. "Nancy," Rowena said, getting her attention. "Would you mind getting Vincent a change of clothes and taking his current attire down to Suzanne's?" Slowly she looked over at Vincent. "And I'm going to need an explanation on why you're covered in blood." "Must be my time of the month," Vincent laughed, Nancy was still tugging at his arm, to the extent where she was almost dragging him from his chair to the door. She silently nodded to Rowena. "Take Vincent back to his cell, oh - and please tell Mitch to come back in an hour or two. After that, report to Barnes for your daily duties, follow his every instruction. "Oh don't tell her that, if she followed his every instruction she'd be pregnant by sundown." Both Nancy and Rowena rolled their eyes at the remark. "Just get him out of my sight, I want to be alone." Nancy opened the door, Vincent still giggling to himself as Rowena sat shivering by on her own. That wooden door made a loud click and screech when it opened, between that and Vincent low cackling, Nancy felt at the end of her tether. To be continued... ---- Characters ---- Vincent Myers Rowena Myers Patrick Myers Nancy Brodmir Nara Larson Mitch Colin Cassady Jess Karen Lucas Lawrence Myers (Mentioned) Arthur Myers (Mentioned) Harry Martin (Mentioned) Barnes Fooks (Mentioned) ---- Deaths ---- ---- Trivia First appearance of Colin Cassady First appearance of Karen First appearance of Lucas Category:Issues Category:Strife Issues Category:Strife Category:Pestilence Category:CamTheWoot